Frodo fir
by Forest Elfin
Summary: Frodo disappears and is presumed dead by the fellowship who carry on their quest, little realising he is actually a prisoner, alone in the dark...
1. CHAPTER ONE : WATCHED

CHAPTER ONE - TRICKED  
  
Frodo sat up. He could feel the eye on him. He doubted that sleep would find him again this night, so he got dressed and walked to the window. Suddenly, as quickly as the feeling had come, it disappeared. Frodo let out the breath he'd been holding in, feeling a small amount of colour return to his face.  
  
He could hear something.something just out of his hearing range. It sounded like a hobbit in pain. Panicking, Frodo stole a quick glance back at Sam's sleeping form.  
  
"Put the rabbits in the stew. There, now." Sam muttered in his sleep. Frodo smirked and climbed out of the window quietly so not to wake Sam and dropped into a tree.  
  
Once on the forest floor, he crept as silently as only hobbits can, always listening for the sound. What if Bilbo had wandered too far and couldn't get back? What if he needed his help? His instincts told him to go back, to go and find Strider, but at that instant, the sound intensified. Frodo turned left slightly and started to run.  
  
He ran blindly through the trees, no longer caring how much noise he made. He felt his chain snag on some foliage, but he was certain the ring would not want to lose itself in some endless elvin forest. He ran on regardless and found himself suddenly on the edge of the Bruinen, and however strange it seemed to the small hobbit that he'd ran so far, he did not stop. He paused and looked back at the grand halls of Rivendell, thinking of the sleeping forms of Sam and the others. This would only take a minute, he told himself. There was no cause for alarm.  
  
Taking a deep breath, he plunged into the ice cold river and on the other side of the valley, Lord Elrond stirred in his slumber.  
  
The water swirled around his feet, seemingly alive. He remembered what happened last time he'd crossed this river. He let his thoughts drift back; he'd been stabbed by one of the Ringwraiths at Weathertop, but had been rescued by Strider. Nearer to the Rivendell valley, Frodo, Aragorn, his cousions Merry and Pippin and gardener and friend Samwise had been met by Glorfindel, a mighty Elf-Lord. Glorfindel had lent Frodo his horse to speed his escape from the Nazgul and Frodo had ended up in a daring confrontation with them on this spot.  
  
He would not think on this now, he decided. Pressing on, he reached the far bank and paused, listening for the sound. As if in answer, he heard the sound, closer now, over to his right. Frodo turned towards it and started running.  
  
He reached a small clearing, surrounded by dense foliage. In the centre, a fallen figure was led upon the ground, his form covered by a black cape.  
  
"Bilbo?" Frodo whispered to the figure. He was beginning to feel unnerved by this whole experience. It suddenly seemed very dark in this clearing, the trees seemed to lean in towards him, making him claustrophobic and jump at every sound.  
  
"Bilbo, is that you?" He repeated, really praying now that the figure would roll over to present his beloved Bilbo's face and smile at him, asking him what he was doing at here so late.  
  
The figure turned over, but it was not Bilbo. Frodo's scream reverberated through out the entire Rivendell valley.  
  
*** At the sound of the scream, Lord Elrond sat bolt upright in bed. Times were troubled indeed if trouble itself would dare to appear on the doorstep of Rivendell. He slipped into the corridor to find several other elves already prowling about, namely Glorfindel and Legolas.  
  
"Have you checked the hobbits?"  
  
"Not yet, Lord Elrond. What do you think that was?"  
  
Elrond leaned forward slightly over the candle flame he'd brought from his room.  
  
"I prefer not to think, but to know Glorfindel. And as for now, we must ensure that the hobbits are all accounted for, and the ring as well."  
  
A shadow passed over Legolas's eyes as he heard the ring mentioned. He had not realised that it was here. Isildur's bane, here in Rivendell. Obviously that was the reason for tomorrow's council, but if the ring was lost, there would be no council. Legolas sprinted along to the hobbits rooms.  
  
He creaked open the first door. There were two hobbits in there, sleeping silently side by side. He turned to leave, but knocked the candle against the wall slightly on his way out. A drop of wax hit the palm of his hand and he swore as only elves can. The smaller hobbit was instantly awake.  
  
"What's going on? Where's Frodo and Sam? Merry, Merry!" He violently shook the other hobbit.  
  
"Uhh?" Merry answered, still half asleep.  
  
"I think Rivendell's being attacked."  
  
"What Pippin?"  
  
"There was an elf in here, Merry. An elf!"  
  
"Yes, well this is the elves's home you know, Pip. Where is the elf now?"  
  
"He's right over there.Well he was, Merry. Honestly."  
  
The elf had gone.  
  
*** Legolas breathed a sigh of relief. He opened the second door a crack. There was only one hobbit. Alarmed, he ran into the room and threw off the cover for the bed nearest the window. One of the hobbits was gone.  
  
Running back into the corridor he yelled,  
  
"Elrond, one of the hobbits is gone!!!"  
  
Elrond turned, midway through opening Estel's door. He stared at Legolas.  
  
"Which one?"  
  
"The one that sleeps nearest the window."  
  
Elrond's face fell just as Estel's door opened from within.  
  
"Ada, what is it?"  
  
"Frodo's missing." He responded.  
  
Legolas could see the anguish in Aragorn's face. He'd heard the story of Aragorn bringing the hobbits to Rivendell from Bree, but he hadn't realised why. It was because one of the hobbits had had the ring. Because the one called Frodo had had the ring. Anguish recorded itself on his face also as he realised the true extent of the matter. Frodo was missing and so was the ring of power. 


	2. CHAPTER TWO : SEARCH

CHAPTER TWO - SEARCH  
  
  
  
Elrond had organised a dozen groups of elves to search the valley, but had ordered that no one was to cross the Bruinen before sunrise, whatever temptation there might be. Estel had left to help search, despite Elrond's protests. He always had been a rebellious child, but at least he had convinced him to stay with Legolas. Aragorn had readily agreed, Legolas had been his friend since childhood, and it seemed a small price to pay to join the search for the hobbits.  
  
When Aragorn finally found him, Legolas was silently looking out of Frodo's window. Of course the hobbits had finally woken up during all the commotion and now they were running up and down the elven halls screaming mostly, so this room was quiet. Lord Elrond had insisted they inside Rivendell.  
  
Legolas looked up at Aragorn's entrance, then just as Frodo had only hours before, climbed out of the window and dropped into the tree. Aragorn followed a little less gracefully, clumsily clinging to each branch for dear life. Aragorn breathed a sigh of relief when he felt firm ground beneath his feet.  
  
The two hunters silently followed the scarce hobbit tracks, noting the added urgency and acceleration they found. Several minutes later, Legolas caught Aragorn's arm.  
  
"Estel, we are nearing the Brunien."  
  
Aragorn nodded and slipped as silently as a ranger can through the trees.  
  
Legolas saw a glint out of the corner of his eye, near the ground on his left. He motioned to Aragorn. It was the ring.  
  
*** For a moment, both the hunters simply stared at it's simple beauty.  
  
"I do not think we should touch it, Legolas." Aragorn said finally.  
  
"I agree Estel."  
  
Neither hunter took their eyes off the ring. It seemed so perfect lying there in the dirt, glittering in the moonlight. So perfect.  
  
Finally, Aragorn took a step forward and with an obvious amount of will, stood on it, covering the ring so that you could not see the shiny surface. Even without seeing it visually, they could still feel it.  
  
"Come on."  
  
Aragorn pulled on Legolas's arm slightly, urging him away from the buried evil. He complied.  
  
The companions broke through the edge of the forests and were stood on the edge of the Bruinen. Elrond had made it quite clear that no one was to cross the Brunien, under any circumstances.  
  
"What is that smell Legolas?"  
  
"That is the smell of burning wood.and something else.cloth perhaps. Wait, there is an underlying smell. I do not like my instincts Aragorn."  
  
Aragorn and Legolas stared at each other.  
  
"It is the smell of burning hair and flesh."  
  
Aragorn turned spontaneously, with years of elven training behind him.  
  
"Frodo!" He yelled at the top of his lungs. He was but inches from the side of the river with Legolas caught him by the arms and held him back.  
  
"No, nin mellon, we cannot cross the Bruinien before our fair lady shows her face upon the land. It will be only a few minutes my friend."  
  
"No! FRODO!!" Aragorn cried in a yell that wrenched Legolas's heart, yet he held firm, not willing to risk Aragorn's life with whatever was across that river.  
  
The first rays of light showed themselves over the treetops and just as they did, an entire acre of wood (or so it seemed to Legolas) burst into flames. He could hear their screams of pain, but yet he did nothing.  
  
"FRODO!" Aragorn yelled. "I'm coming!" He tried to pull away from Legolas, but his grip was like iron around him.  
  
"Why will you not let me go, Legolas? I can save him, I know I can. Just let me go, please."  
  
Estel sounded young, younger even than his own human years.  
  
"There is nothing you can do nin mellon. We must wait for the fire to die down. Frodo would not want you to risk your life coming in after him, even if he were there at all. He could well be hiding, safely waiting somewhere until the fire dies down to come out."  
  
Aragorn's struggles weakened and Legolas could see the tears welling up in his eyes, and feel them cascade also down his own face. They slumped to the floor together and waited.  
  
*** Glorfindel also smelled the smoke and ran quickly through the trees towards it. He sounded an small elvish horn to alert the others elves, knowing they would follow his path. He burst through trees into the open and it seemed as if the entire sky were alight with fire. All the trees in sight of the western shore were now burning freely and their flames reflected in the cool blue of the Bruinen.  
  
He noticed Legolas and Estel, slumped on the floor, Estel freely crying now. His eyes flickered back to the trees. He could not remember when such an atrocity had happened this close to Rivendell.  
  
One by one the elves appeared through the trees like shadows, drawn by Glorfindel's horn and the sounds of the dying trees. Each one's eyes were glued to burning and none moved whilst there were still flames.  
  
There was silence. The last flame died out on the forest floor, but yet none of the elves moved. They had no recollection of the time they had spent, just watching the flames in shock, mourning the passing of the trees. None moved towards the burnt out forest.  
  
The three hobbits burst through the crowd of gathered elves, having finally found their way out of Rivendell and down to the river, they wasted no time in leaping into the river. The sun was high in the sky now and no one stopped them. When Estel stood to follow them, no one hindered him. He looked down at Legolas and asked him silently if he would simply sit there. Legolas stared at him for a moment, then followed Estel's lead across the river.  
  
Slowly the elves came out of their trance and began the search for Frodo whilst trying to clean up. This place would not be healed whilst they remained in Middle Earth, but they would still care for it until they did. Even the dwarves contributed, lifting the heavier fallen logs in teams, cursing quietly about how they would like to exact their revenge on whoever had done this, their quarrels with the elves forgotten.  
  
The hobbits madly rushed through the woods, shouting out Frodo's name, but it was in vain. Aragorn had already found what he had been looking for, carefully falling the remains of the hobbit's tracks. He knelt beside the remains, and lovingly swirled the warm ashes around in his hand. His hand touched something still molten hot and he recoiled at the touch.  
  
He turned back his head to it. It was the tiny clasp used to hold Frodo's black cloak together. The initials FB were still visible and another tear escaped over his cheek. So it was true.  
  
The remains of tree trunk were still visible, obviously the hobbit had been out here when it had fallen and been caught underneath. And of course when the fire started.  
  
He tried not to imagine it. 


	3. CHAPTER THREE : GOODBYE

CHAPTER THREE - GOODBYE  
  
The remains found in the forest had been stored in elven cloth and as they were sprinkled around the trees nearest Rivendell, a lone elf sang of Frodo's life. Sam couldn't understand the words, he could feel the meaning behind them. A week ago he would have been self-consious about holding hands with two other male hobbits in public; today he was not. He felt a fit of sobs burst upon him again and his knees give way beneath him.  
  
"Mr Frodo.I'm so sorry. I left you when you needed me the most. It's the only promise I've ever broken, Mr Frodo. I'm so.sorry. I promised Gandalf not to leave you and I did. If I could only turn the clock back."  
  
"It's alright Sam. He knows."  
  
Sam felt Merry's hand on his shoulder and he gave it a squeeze.  
  
"Frodo was a friend to everyone and everyone will miss him. He left so quickly and this time we could not catch him, even as the band of conspirators that we are." He allowed himself a small smile and saw even Sam's lips turn up slightly at the side. Many of the elves looked confused. "I will miss him." Merry finished.  
  
Aragorn looked up into Merry's eyes surprised at the maturity he found.  
  
"I only knew Frodo for a short time, far too short for such a wonderful hobbit, but I liked him a great deal and count him among my friends. I would have followed him to the ends of Middle Earth from the trust he put it me when I deserved none."  
  
Aragorn felt tears welling at the corners of his own eyes as he finished his words.  
  
Pippin looked up. "Frodo Baggins was my cousin and although he was older than me, he never treated me like the child I was in everyone else's eyes. He always respected me and I'll never forget that time he stood up for me in front of Farmer Maggot, even though I knew how scared he was of him. Thank you Frodo."  
  
Bilbo stood silently in the circle of friends come to remember Frodo. He could think of nothing to say, everything seemed too childish, too clumsy or too long. If only he hadn't left that accursed ring in the Shire, nothing would have happened. If only.He felt Gandalf's strong hand on his shoulder.  
  
"He does not blame you, Bilbo."  
  
Bilbo collapsed into Gandalf's embrace and cried hard. If Gandalf ever tried to say that he could not read minds, Bilbo would never again give him the benefit of the doubt.  
  
The gathered elves began to file back into Rivendell slowly, in long narrow lines. They did not have much business with death, and it cut them deep when they did.  
  
*** Mithrandir sat in chair opposite Elrond smoking his pipe. He was feeling rather tired, it had been a long day for everyone.  
  
"What are we to do with the ring, Gandalf. It cannot stay in Rivendell now, it has been proven to us harshly." Elrond said, his mind still seeing the place where Estel had buried the thing.  
  
"Do not let us speak of dark things in dark times. There will be time enough to speak of such things in the council tomorrow."  
  
"I will follow your council then Gandalf, though I think it not wise to waste any time. How do you think the hobbits are dealing with this?"  
  
"Better than expected I should say." He took a long intake of smoke and blew it out as an arrow. However, this only made him remember his days with Bilbo in the shire, and that only made him think of Frodo again.  
  
"It has only been one week since it happened and we cannot expect too much of them. To have Frodo taken from them so suddenly, with no warning is a great shock for such a closely knitted peace-loving community."  
  
"But many questions remain unanswered about his death, Gandalf. Why did he cross the Brunien alone, at night? What was so urgent? Why did his body burn, but not the trunk that hindered him when surely wood burns quicker than flesh."  
  
"I hold your council close, Lord Elrond. But I know not the answers to your questions, and I fear we may never know."  
  
*** A small raft drifted down the Bruinen, carrying only two passengers. It jostled through the rapids, shaking the raft occasionally. A tall, twisted figure of man stood firmly, a barge pole in his hand, dipping it in slowly to help steer the raft. His black cloak shaded his eyes and face, covering also the length of his body.  
  
His eyes drifted to the bound figure on the other side of the raft, it's blue eyes now flickering back and forth in alarm. It had only just woken up, which was quite natural with the amount of drugs he'd force fed the half-ling. He'd also dealt him a fair number of healthy blows to the head, to stop his intolerable squeaking and mumbling.  
  
He wondered if the half-ling had worked out over this past week who his captor was.  
  
"Do you know where you are, half-ling?"  
  
The figure shook his head violently and his captor laughed.  
  
"Look over there," he said pointing behind him.  
  
Frodo's eyes widened as he took in the sight of Orthanc. Saruman lived at Isengard. He had imprisoned Gandalf in that tower for weeks, how was a poor hobbit like himself supposed to survive. Surely he could not call on the Lord of the Eagles as Gandalf did, so what was he to do. He shook in terror now, why had he been brought here? What had he done? A tear slid down his cheek.  
  
"Awww poor little half-ling. Have you worked out who I am yet?"  
  
Again Frodo shook his head.  
  
His captor laughed and slowly pulled back his hood to reveal heavy black brows and dark scornful eyes, his large mouth curled in a sneer. Frodo knew that face. It was. 


	4. CHAPTER FOUR : DESPERATION

CHAPTER FOUR - DESPERATION  
  
It was Bill Ferny; the twisted man that had sold them Bill the pony back in Bree. What reason had Ferny for capturing him? How had he found him? How had he lured him from Rivendell so easily?  
  
"I suppose you're wondering how you got here then half-ling? I'm quite proud of scheme really, even if it was Saruman's in design. Saruman was using the palantir to spy on you and even if he couldn't get a clear link with you, he could still input simple thoughts into your mind, such as hearing a noise outside in the woods."  
  
Noticing they were approaching the meeting of the Bruinen and the Grey Flood, Ferny stopped speaking and drew the raft towards the East Shore with an ease of practise. He had done this many times before. Once the raft had been secured, he dragged the hobbit off the boat and tied him to a nearby tree. He settled near the site of a well used fireplace in a grove of birch and struck flint against the side. A bright spark of flame appeared in the darkness and quickly became quite large.  
  
"Anyway." Ferny was delighted to have someone to boast about his ingenuity to, and since the half-ling was a captive audience, he might as well make use of him.  
  
"You put up quite a fight once you realised I wasn't some other half-ling you kept mumbling about. It was your cloak that deceived you, it caught on some low lying brush and you became tangled in it. I caught you easily then and knocked you over the head, placing some young deer I'd caught earlier in your place. It was Saruman's idea to try and fake your death you see, he said it would make our escape easier. The elves would be so upset about you and their trees, they'd forget about any clues that didn't fit the explanation."  
  
Ferny looked up.  
  
"You're dead as far as they're concerned half-ling. Dead and buried. No one knows you're here and no one's coming after you."  
  
He laughed at settled into the crook of the tree, watching the obvious distress of the half-ling turn into absolute terror. It was quite entertaining.  
  
*** Frodo watched for Ferny to fall asleep. He squirmed against his bonds, trying to at least loosen them of sorts. They would not give at all. Every time he moved, they dug into his skin, blistering his wrists and ankles. He tried to crawl along the ground but the rope binding his wrists to the tree was tight, with no slack. He tried to lie down, maybe a good nights sleep would refresh him enough to escape tomorrow, but he couldn't even lie down.  
  
He cuddled against the tree frame, trying as best as he could to not panic. He thought of his friends, dependable Sam, loyal Merry, loving Pippin and the resourceful Strider. He hadn't known him for long, but he was fond of the man. He even thought of Lord Elrond, his calming presence and healing touch. He thought of Gandalf, him and Bilbo blowing smoke rings on a summer's afternoon. Oh, Bilbo. He hoped he was alright. He wondered what his funeral had been like.  
  
Frodo Baggins had died that night in Rivendell. He was a nobody, just a passing face to be lost in the crowds. What was the point in escaping anyway? Where would he go? He couldn't go back to the Shire, they probably thought he was dead anyway, galloping off so soon after buying a home in Buckland. Everyone at Rivendell thought he was dead, so why cause them further pain? He could start a new life somewhere and live out his life in peace. He had nothing of value that Saruman could want, he was certain he'd lost the ring somewhere before meeting Ferny.  
  
The Ring no longer seemed important to him, it was just so piece of jewellery that everyone made too much fuss about. Why, if Saruman asked him where it was, he would tell him. It was of no concern to him, he was just a small hobbit. What could anything he did possibly have any affect on anything in Middle Earth?  
  
When unconsiousness came for him, he opened up to it with welcoming arms.  
  
*** Several days ride away, Saruman of Many Colours broke away from his palantir. The half-ling was so easy to manipulate now he was out of range from that elven magic, it was almost boring. Once he found out where the ring was and what the elves intended to do with it, he would send his newly formed band of uruk-hai after it. They wouldn't stand a chance.  
  
Ferny was a constant pain, but once he had the half-ling, he would be of no further use. He had great plans for the half-ling, if he was right, (which he usually was) he could become formidable indeed with the hobbit's help. If the hobbit resisted, then there was an entire defenceless country filled with possibilies. That could be a way to convince the half-ling to help him. Yes, that was possibility indeed.  
  
***  
  
Back at Rivendell, someone else was in a state of desperation. Legolas Greenleaf sat on one of the balconies of Rivendell and looked at the stars. He could have saved Frodo, he knew he could. Why had he held onto Estel and refused to let him go? Even if Legolas had not been able to find Frodo, surely Estel could have. Why, if he had, Frodo would still be alive today.  
  
His heart was breaking and now he understood why some elves died of grief, it was so painful and yet the victim never cared. The pain seemed incomparable to what Frodo must have been through because of him. Legolas had hardly known the hobbit, yet after all he'd come through, he had been condemned by one of the elves he sort sanctuary from.  
  
A tear slipped down his cheek and landed on his tunic, followed by another and another, until they became a continuous stream. Once he would have been ashamed to cry in such a public place, when anyone could see him; now he cared not at all.  
  
*** Lord Elrond stepped back from the window. He'd been watching Legolas long enough he thought, yet still he worried. Legolas was spending far too much time alone and in tears, and he worried for the young prince's health. It was not good for an elf to be consumed by grief.  
  
Estel entered the room and noticing the furrow of concentration on Elrond's face, he said:  
  
"What is it ada?"  
  
Elrond looked up at him.  
  
"I worry for Legolas. Will you go to him and see that he is alright? He is up on the high balacony, the one you used to love when you were a child."  
  
"Yes ada, I will go."  
  
Elrond could still see the pain of Frodo's death in Estel's eyes, but he had accepted it and was trying his best to move on. He wondered if his daughter had anything to do with it.  
  
*** Legolas wiped his tears on his sleeve as he heard Aragorn's approach, but Aragorn did not enter the balcony, he just stood there.  
  
"If you are going to stand there all night my friend, you may as well come out here and look at the stars."  
  
Aragorn emitted a sly grin, which lasted only an instant.  
  
"What troubles you so Legolas? Why do you isolate yourself from everyone?"  
  
Legolas looked around at Estel and said nothing, he and Estel had been friends for years, he would be able to see it in his eyes.  
  
Aragorn was shocked and voiced it so. "You are not to blame, Legolas. It was an accident, it was nobody's fault."  
  
Legolas sighed. "If it were not for me, Frodo would still be alive now. I killed him, Estel and I beg you not to try to convince me otherwise. I know that Lord Elrond has sent you here."  
  
Legolas could see the hurt in Estel's eyes at his last remark, but feelings seemed to matter less and less to him, even those of his friends and kin.  
  
Aragorn rose and left, hurt and confused by Legolas's words. He would seek Gandalf's council for this, he would know what to do. 


	5. CHAPTER FIVE : COUNCILLED

CHAPTER FIVE - COUNCILLED  
  
"You have but one choice, the Ring must be destroyed. It was made in the fires of Mount Doom, and only there can it be unmade. One of you must do this."  
  
The council fell silent. Lord Elrond had decided to go ahead with the council meeting, knowing that the ring could not remain in Rivendell forever. Many things had been discussed already; Gloin had told of the dwarves in the Lonely Mountain and Boromir of Gondor of the wars with Mordor and of his recurring dream. Elrond had spoken of the forging of the rings, then Gandalf had recounted what he knew of it's history and also of Saruman's betrayal.  
  
Bilbo had spoken last of his finding of the Ring, and together with the other hobbits and narrated what they knew of Frodo's journey with the ring.  
  
"It is a gift." Boromir began. "Give Gondor the weapon of the enemy and let us use it against him. Long has my father kept your lands safe, with the blood of our people. Let us use it."  
  
"Have you heard nothing Lord Elrond has said? The Ring must be destroyed!" Legolas cried out, outraged that this human suggest such a thing when he had seen the power of the ring first hand.  
  
"And I suppose you think you're the one to do it. I will be dead before I see the ring in the hands of an elf!"  
  
Gimli son of Gloin stood up with that, followed by his kin and the elves. The two kinds traded insults until they heard a small voice among them.  
  
"I will take it. I will take the ring to Mordor. I may not have been able to save Mr Frodo, but this is what he would have wanted, so I can at least to this last thing for him. Though, I do not know the way to such a far away and dark place such as Mordor."  
  
Sam looked rather bewildered, surprised himself even he had, getting up and speaking in front of all these important folks. Gandalf smiled at him and stood up.  
  
"I will help you bear this burden, Samwise Gamgee, as long as it is yours to bear."  
  
Strider stood up at Gandalf's words and added: "By my life or death if I can protect you, I will."  
  
Gandalf and Elrond shared a knowing glance. Legolas and Gimli also joined the group, but whether it was out of spite for each other or some other reason, even Lord Elrond couldn't fathom. Boromir seemed reluctant to join a quest to destroy the ring, but conceded to follow it as long as it was in his path back to Minas Tirith. The two smaller hobbits, Merry and Pippin also joined the group, not content to stay behind. Since Frodo's death, the three had become inseparable and it seemed unreasonable to ask them to separate.  
  
Lord Elrond looked at the chosen, there were.eight. If he could only find one more, there would be nine. Nine companions to combat the nine walkers of darkness. Nine was also the elvish number for luck. He looked around the council and his eyes fell.  
  
"I think that we already have our ninth member, stood over next to Sam." Elrond said out loud.  
  
Sam looked bewildered and looked over his shoulder, there was nobody there.  
  
"Frodo Baggins will be the ninth member of our Fellowship. He is here in spirit with us and will be counted among our number." Gandalf finished. There were tears in everyone's eyes as the fellowship remembered their dear friend.  
  
"We must leave soon and fast, for the enemy is close." Aragorn voiced finally, shattering the silence.  
  
"Very well, Aragorn. We will leave tomorrow at dawn." Gandalf answered.  
  
*** Frodo was tied over a horse, his legs and arms connected by ropes beneath the belly of the horse. The ropes burned his fair skin, leaving blisters that rubbed and burst, giving him great lesions down his ankles and wrists. The pain was unbearable and whenever unconsciousness took him, he was grateful; but it was not often enough.  
  
The tight gag around his mouth left his throat dry and parched, and rubbed against his cheeks. Often he tried to speak, knowing that Ferny would eventually hit him over the head, bringing on the black-outs quicker. He didn't even mind the headaches.  
  
"Look half-ling. We are here."  
  
Frodo could raise his head just enough to see a high stone wall circling a black stone tower. The sun hurt his eyes and he tried to close them tight, but still the sun beat down relentlessly. He heard some iron gates clang against a wall and his horse moved once again beneath him. He could smell burning.he fidgeted against his saddle, the burning smell brought back too many memories of his nightmare chase from Ferny. He tried to shut it all out, go back to the warm blackness, but suddenly he was falling.  
  
*** "You have done well Ferny, it seems my trust in you was well placed. Pick him up and lock him in the tower; I will see to him later."  
  
Saruman's voice was cool and calculated, his mind already imaging his possession of the ring, what he could wield with it, how invincible he would be.  
  
Ferny slung the half-ling over his shoulder and began the long climb to the tower room. He dumped the half-ling unceremoniously in the centre and bolted the door shut behind him. He had no need to do any more, the child was no wizard such as Gandalf.  
  
Ferny disappeared deep into the tower to get a good night's sleep after his long journey.  
  
Saruman left the half-ling in the tower for several days, he'd been distracted creating his army of uruk-hai. When he finally completed the long climb to the top of the tower, he was disgusted. The half-ling was drawn into a fetal position and swaying back and forth as if possessed. His face was white and bloodied, and his hands brushed through his matted curls every so often, as if it might help his panic. As he approached the half- ling tried to move further away from him, regardless of the fact there was a wall behind him.  
  
"If you give me the ring half-ling, I will let you go." Frodo looked up at him. He seemed to shimmer in white before him. Surely Saruman was not really evil. He didn't look evil. Frodo didn't even have the ring anymore, although he still heard it's call late at night.  
  
"I do not.have the ring anymore."  
  
Saruman's eyebrows raised.  
  
"Search him." He commanded and from the shadows behind stumbled two orcs. They grabbed Frodo, turned him upside down and shook him. They then unceremoniously stripped off his clothing and checked all the various pockets. Frodo struggled at first, trying to twist around and bite the captors if he could. He earned a back hand across the jaw and quickly became rigid, just wanting it to be over.  
  
The orcs shook their heads at Saruman.  
  
"Where is the ring?" He asked gently.  
  
"I.I.don't know. I lost before I got to the river. I don't know where it is, but it calls to me still."  
  
Saruman cocked his head slightly to examine the half-ling. He probed him slightly with magic and found him like a piece of glass, ready to shatter at the slightest touch; but once glass was shattered, it was never joined together in exactly the same way he thought, and you could decide where to stick each piece. That could be fun.  
  
"Lock him in chains and give him only enough water to keep him alive. Let him see no one."  
  
The orcs behind him nodded at his command and grabbed the half-ling and chained him to the wall. Saruman slipped out and remembered something. He had forgotten to mention that the half-ling should not be harmed. He heard a scream. Oh well. Orcs will be orcs, but if they killed him, there would be hell to pay. 


	6. CHAPTER SIX : RECKONING

CHAPTER SIX - RECKONING  
  
The fellowship broke out from the dark of Moria, sobbing and crying. First Frodo had died before they'd even left Rivendell and now Gandalf had fallen on the bridge of Khazud-dum. Their journey had been perilous so far, first the avalanche on Caradhras, then the watcher in the lake and then the fight with the goblins in Balin's Tomb. Sam had very nearly been stabbed by the cave troll, but Aragorn, unwilling to risk losing any more members of the company had launched himself at him. They had escaped - barely - and the confrontation with the balrog still at the front of their minds. Gandalf had stood alone against it and had won, if only he had not turned away, he would have seen the balrog's final blow that knocked him from the bridge. If only.  
  
Sam, Merry and Pippin huddled together crying, but Legolas pulled them up.  
  
"By nightfall these hills will be swarming with orcs." Aragorn said, "We must reach the woods of Lothlorien."  
  
Mr Frodo's death still weighed heavily on Sam's mind, and also that of the ring. It was a strange burden to carry and it seemed to occupy him to no end. He wanted to just put it on and slip away, but if ever that look was seen by Merry or Pippin, he was usually knocked out of it. He didn't know how Mr Frodo had coped with. Oh, how strong and brave Mr Frodo had been. If only he was here now.  
  
The fellowship reached Lothlorien and were met by Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel when they reached Caras Galadhorn and given peace and calm for several days. Sam saw the ruining of the shire in the Mirror of Galadriel and also he saw Frodo, being beaten whilst chained to a wall. At the sight of Frodo, so real it seemed that he burst into tears.  
  
Galadriel simply said that the mirror gave visions of the past, present and future, but all were alternates, make one small decision and the course of the future could change. But where did that leave his vision of Mr Frodo? Galadriel told him to rest well this night, for tomorrow they would be leaving. Sam went to bed, his vision of Frodo re-playing over and over in his mind.  
  
*** Frodo slumped against the wall. He had been here for so long.about thirteen meals by his reckoning, although how often they brought the meals was beyond him, it was always dark where they kept him. The Master would come every so often, asking if the ring felt closer and sometimes he would say yay and sometimes nay. He always told the truth though, because the master would shock him with the fire if he did otherwise.  
  
He felt like one giant bruise. His back was the worst he guessed, from the games the orcs used to like to play on him. They would lay him down and whip him with a stoned whip and bet on how long it would take him to pass out.  
  
One day he wanted to just exist without hurting. It seemed a lot to ask, but he wasn't asking to live, to go places and talk to people, just to exist. Maybe one day the master would let him go. One day.  
  
Frodo heard a rumbling beneath him, it felt like the entire tower was shaking. It must be the army that the orcs would always gossip about before they came to beat him. Maybe they were going to Rivendell. Once Frodo would have been worried for his friends, but now he no longer cared. They didn't even know that he existed, so why should he care about them?  
  
*** Galadriel had told Sam that he had to go on alone, but he didn't know how. He didn't want them involved, it was far too dangerous. He kept thinking, what would Mr Frodo do? He'd have some great scatter-brained scheme, but what would Sam do? They'd been beached at Perth Galen for about an hour now, after coming down the Great River for several days. Aragorn and Boromir were arguing about their route again. Aragorn called for a vote, but Merry, Pippin, Legolas and Gimli simply said they would follow the Ringbearer, meaning they wanted Sam to decide.  
  
Sam begged his leave and wandered slowly up the hill. Where would Mr Frodo have gone, to Minas Tirith with Boromir or to the dead marshes with Aragorn? Sam couldn't see Frodo wanting to leave Aragorn, and Mr Frodo had been wary of Boromir, even though he'd only spied him for a few minutes. Perhaps Mr Frodo's intuition was correct.  
  
Thinking of Mr Frodo only brought him back to his most frequent thought lately, why had he been shown Frodo being tortured? He couldn't remember Mr Frodo ever being tortured or having a long absence in the past, and he couldn't be being tortured now, because he was dead and therefore couldn't be in the future either. It didn't make sense at all.  
  
A twig snapped behind him and Sam almost jumped out of his skin.  
  
"None of us should wander alone, least of all you." Boromir told him.  
  
Sam watched him warily and with distrust. Boromir stood in his argument stance.  
  
"If you would but lend me the ring."  
  
"No, Mr Boromir, absolutely not. Mr Frodo would not want that. He wanted it to be destroyed."  
  
"Mr Frodo this and Mr Frodo that. Can you not decide what is right for yourself Sam?"  
  
Sam's eyes filled with tears of anger.  
  
"Don't you talk about Mr Frodo that way. Even if he's not alive next to me, he's alive still in here." He pointed to his heart. "And he always will be."  
  
Boromir's mouth turned to a sneer and Sam turned and ran. Being the clumsy hobbit that he was, he tripped over a log and instantly Boromir was on him.  
  
"GIVE IT TO ME!!!" He yelled.  
  
Sam knew he should not put on the ring, but if he didn't, Boromir would steal it and that would never do. He'd only wear it just this once and never again he told himself. He pushed the ring onto his finger and the world darkened around him. He scrambled to his feet and ran. He heard Boromir screaming after him, but he seemed to whisper from very far away.  
  
The eye appeared behind him and Sam instantly pulled off the ring, trembling in terror and fell backwards with the shock. Aragorn appeared behind him.  
  
"Sam? Are you alright Sam?"  
  
"Stay away." Sam let out a sniffle. "Let me go Aragorn, you know what it is I must do."  
  
Aragorn searched Sam's eyes.  
  
"Be careful Sam."  
  
"I will. Look after the others for me."  
  
Sam disappeared into the forest behind him and Aragorn watched him go. He wondered if he would ever see him again.  
  
Aragorn heard the band of orcs behind him and rose to meet them.  
  
"Elendil!" He shouted as he leaped into battle.  
  
Aragorn battled the uruk-hai with all his might, his sword swinging to and fro between orcs, leaving a trail of bodies in his wake. Legolas and Gimli were soon on the scene also and battled as if possessed.  
  
Merry and Pippin were cornered by a group of particulary vicious uruk-hai and were thinking their end had indeed come, when Boromir leaped into the thicket of it and battled them free. Boromir blew the Horn of Gondor, requesting aid from the other hunters, but unfortunately seeming to draw the uruk-hai also. Several arrows hit Boromir from the leader of their band and he collapsed. The leader was just about to deliver the final blow when Aragorn tackled him from behind.  
  
After an intense battle, Aragorn pushed his sword through the uruk's belly and knowing he was dying, the uruk began to laugh.  
  
"You are weak man." He spat the word man out as if it might infect him. "You are stupid also if you did not know one of your own company has been in our hands for many tens of nights."  
  
Aragorn stared at the dying uruk, not knowing whether to believe him or not. Of course he was lying he thought, this a cross of an orc and a goblin.  
  
"Brown hair, blue eyes, a child." The uruk smiled. "You know of whom I speak."  
  
"Frodo." Aragorn murmured. "But he is dead, we buried him!"  
  
The uruk laughed again. "Look at my hands, man. His blood is on my hands." He laughed again and held up his hands. "Would you like me to tell you how he screamed for me?"  
  
Aragorn's teeth clenched and he twisted the knife in his stomach.  
  
"Tell me where he is and I will speed your passing."  
  
The uruk smiled and blood spilled from his mouth. Aragorn grasped him by the shoulders and shook him.  
  
"TELL ME!"  
  
The uruk's eyes stilled; he was dead.  
  
Legolas pulled on his arm. "He is dead mellon nin, what was it he said to you to make you so angry?"  
  
"Frodo is alive."  
  
Legolas stilled and if he had not been stood up, Aragorn would have thought him dead also. Gimli's eyes widened from behind Legolas.  
  
"But we buried the hobbit's body, Aragorn."  
  
"Did we?" Aragorn snapped. "We were so overcome with pity for ourselves that we did not see what was right in front of us."  
  
Aragorn stood and kicked the uruk's body. "Estel." Aragorn turned and followed Legolas' line of sight. Boromir was dying.  
  
Aragorn rushed over to him and silenced his protests. He told him that he would protect their people as best he could and Boromir died quietly in his arms.  
  
"Rest in peace, son of Gondor." Aragorn finished. They placed Boromir in one of the boats and let it float down the waterfall. Legolas made to cross the river, but stopped when he saw Aragorn had no intention of following.  
  
"It is highly likely they will take Merry and Pippin to the same place they took Frodo and we will not abandon them to torture and death. The fate of the Ringbearer is no longer in our hands. Take only what you can carry, we travel light. Let's hunt some orc!"  
  
Legolas smiled and Gimli roared in anticipation and the two ran after Aragorn.  
  
*** Sam looked out over the expanse of Emyn Muil.  
  
"I made a promise Mr Frodo, a promise. Don't you leave him Samwise Gamgee and I left you when you needed me the most. I'll finish what you started and take the ring to Mordor."  
  
Sam started down the path.  
  
"I'm glad you're still with me Mr Frodo."  
  
Sam smiled and carried on towards Mordor. 


	7. CHAPTER SEVEN : FINDING

CHAPTER SEVEN - FINDING  
  
  
  
Legolas sat still and numb. It had been weeks since they'd first found out that Frodo still lived, but it had dawned on them early on that there was the whole of Middle Earth to search. He could be anywhere. So much had happened since that day on the river bank, Gandalf had come back to them, Aragorn had been believed dead, they had won the battle at Helm's Deep. So many had already died, could Frodo have possibly survived.  
  
He felt a nudge from Araogorn and sat up a little straighter; he'd been so lost in thought that he'd nearly dropped off to sleep. They'd been riding for several days now, Gandalf had insisted they make with all haste towards Isengard, but he would not tell them why. When they got there, his silence became apparent.  
  
All of Isengard had been destroyed and still water ran through the grounds, all that remained was the single black tower in the centre, alone against the world. It remained unscathed, untouched. He looked around and saw many trees standing solemnly around the grounds and towers. But wait, these were no trees; these were Ents!  
  
The small party moved towards the remains of the gates, but were halted by a familiar voice.  
  
"Hey, Pippin! It's Aragorn."  
  
Aragorn got down from his horse to see if he could find where this voice was coming from, when he was ambushed from behind.  
  
"Aragorn we're so glad to see you again!" Shouted the hobbits as they embraced him. They soon moved on to Legolas, Gimli and Gandalf and in their frenzy they almost hugged King Theoden as well.  
  
Legolas looked warily at Gandalf.  
  
"Do you think Frodo could be here, Gandalf?" He said quietly, so that no other could hear.  
  
"Perhaps, my friend, perhaps. Mayhap we shall find out."  
  
***  
  
Gandalf approached the tower, followed by Aragorn, King Theoden, Legolas and Gimli. Eomer strayed slightly behind with Merry and Pippin, having been told by Gandalf that he was to ensure that they did not enter the tower. The Riders that had accompanied them stayed near the gate, wary of this foreboding place and frightened of the walking trees.  
  
Saruman came forth from the balcony and eyed the company. There were all there that he had expected. At first he spoke to Theoden, trying to persuade the King to his cause by using a light enchantment. Gandalf saw through it soon enough and cut it off. He had but one card left to play.  
  
"No you not the fate of your cousin, Meriadoc and Peregrin?" He said, turning towards the hobbits. The half-ling he now knew as Frodo had finally broken and spilled everything he knew about the shire, the ring and the initial forming of the fellowship. From his descriptions, he could recognise Frodo's cousins.  
  
Merry and Pippin stared open mouthed at Saruman. They shared only one cousin outside of the shire. Frodo.  
  
"I spoke to him several hours ago and he told me of you. Merry; cold and calculating, Pippin; dumb and stupid, Gandalf the Grey; a conjuror of fireworks and smoke rings and Strider; a pathetic bodyguard turned king in love with an elf. What a pitiful sight you are!" Saruman laughed.  
  
"What's he talking, Strider. Frodo's dead, isn't he Strider." Pippin said to Strider, tears in his eyes.  
  
Strider did not have the heart to tell him what he suspected, but it seemed words confirmed it for Pippin.  
  
"Would you like me to tell you where he is? Or perhaps you would rather hear of how I watched him scream when the orcs beat him, once, twice, thrice daily." If Saruman was going down, then he was going to as much damage as possible on his way out.  
  
All of Isengard was silent.  
  
Saruman disappeared back inside, and climbed the stairs to the chamber where he kept Frodo.  
  
"Come, Frodo, it is time for you to leave."  
  
Frodo no longer spoke words, but obediently followed Saruman back to the balcony like a dog.  
  
Sure enough, when he looked out over Isengard once again, the company was still assembled.  
  
"I have a proposition for you Gandalf Greyhame."  
  
Gandalf looked up to Saruman. "We're listening."  
  
"Give myself and Grima safe passage from Isengard in any direction I choose, and I will spare Frodo's life."  
  
Gandalf exchanged glances with Aragorn. They had no choice.  
  
"You must show us that he is still alive." Gandalf replied.  
  
Saruman gestured to Frodo and he climbed clumsily on top of the balcony rail. It was but a few inches wide, and hundreds of feet to the ground, but if the master commanded it, then he must obey.  
  
"You are convinced I take it."  
  
Gandalf nodded. "It is done."  
  
Using the distance between himself and the company to his advantage, Saruman tied a rope around Frodo's neck to prevent him from falling too soon.  
  
"If master commands you, you will jump. Understand?"  
  
Frodo nodded. Master must be obeyed.  
  
*** Saruman took his time saddling his horse and rode out with Grima leisurely. The dwarf drew his axe as Saruman passed and he smiled.  
  
"If anything happens to me before I pass the borders of Isengard, Frodo will jump from that ledge. He will obey anything that I command. Consider this again before you point your weapons at me, dwarf."  
  
It was as if things went into slow motion for Aragorn as Saruman passed the gates of Isengard. He saw what was happening but could not hope to stop it.  
  
"NO FRODO, DON'T DO IT!" He yelled, already running towards the entrance of Isengard in a hopeless attempt to save the hobbit.  
  
Saruman stood from a safe distance, Grima metres behind him, ready to spur their horses.  
  
"Jump Frodo." He said quietly and locked gaze with Frodo, who was still upon the balcony. He did not need to say it loudly, so under Saruman's spell was Frodo. He knew that Frodo would hear and understand his command. He spurred his horse on, and Grima followed in his footsteps. North- westwards towards the place known as the shire. He had work to do.  
  
Frodo looked down. It was so far down. He heard his master's call, telling him to jump. The rope was tight and itchy around his already bruised neck and he felt strange, lighter even as his master rode away. Frodo stepped off the balcony and felt himself falling into the sunshine, before blackness consumed him when the rope went taut.  
  
********************  
  
*Cowers in corner trying to hide*  
  
"You all wanted Frodo angst so here it is. Please don't hurt me!!!"  
  
(Sorry if you think this chapter is too graphic) 


	8. CHAPTER EIGHT : RESCUE

CHAPTER EIGHT - RESCUE  
  
Aragorn was running full pelt up the hundreds of stairs in Isengard to the balcony. He would be to late he knew, he couldn't save Frodo, as he couldn't save him before. It was if a ray of light came in through the window and he heard Arwen's voice in his head.  
  
"There is still hope." She said and Aragorn speeded up.  
  
*** Merry and Pippin watched in horror as Frodo leaped from the balcony to almost certain death. They'd heard ghost stories as children about hangings, ones told in the firelight to scare young hobbits. They'd never thought they'd actually see one, especially Frodo's.  
  
"FRODO!" Pippin cried out in a heart wrenching wail.  
  
***  
  
Legolas stared up at the small hobbit. He had seen Saruman put the rope around Frodo's neck and yet he had said nothing. He could have reached Frodo, he had years of elven training and heightened reflexes behind him, yet he had stood stone still whilst the young hobbit jumped to his death. He had done nothing to help Frodo when he had been captured, nothing to help Mithrandir and now nothing for Frodo again.  
  
A tear slipped down his cheek. He was pathetic, but finally now he understood why Lord Elrond's wife had fled Middle Earth. He understood now how fully an elf could feel grief and pain. All the emotions that he had experienced came back to him threefold.  
  
***  
  
Aragorn reached the balcony and began pulling on the rope to bring Frodo back. He pulled the small hobbit over the edge and knelt over him, gasping for breath. He listened at his chest.if he was still alive at least, then everything would be alright. He heard a heartbeat, weak and slow, but it was still there. Aragorn almost danced in relief. So his neck hadn't broken on impact, which was a good start and he was still breathing.  
  
He began a quick examination of the hobbit and what he found shocked him to the core. The small hobbit's once pale creamy skin was now almost completely covered in whip marks, lacerations and burns, some drawn in patterns and words in the black speech he guessed. He didn't even look at the area surrounding his neck.  
  
He gathered the small hobbit into his arms and started down the stairs, meeting Legolas half way down.  
  
"Does he live?"  
  
"Yes, but barely nin mellon."  
  
Legolas smiled. "As long as he breathes still, he has a chance." If there could be no hope for him, he would at least give hope for Aragorn.  
  
***  
  
Gandalf sat on a fallen boulder and smoked his pipe; the warm smoke felt good as it caressed it's way down his throat and reminded him of happier times. He had done everything he could for Frodo last night and now all he could do was wait and hope that Frodo had the will to pull through. He mourned that times had come to this, that the innocent were punished unmercifully, whilst the guilty escaped unharmed. Saruman was truly evil.  
  
Aragorn approached with a pipe of his own and sat beside Gandalf. The friends said nothing, simply enjoying each other's presence.  
  
"Arwen spoke to me last night as I was running up the stairs. She told me there was still hope."  
  
Aragorn searched Gandalf's eyes, looking for that glimmer of hope that had not been there of late. He found it.  
  
"Then indeed my friend, there is. Perhaps all it needs is a little encouragement. Go and find Merry and Pippin and bring them to Frodo."  
  
Aragorn was completely confused.  
  
***  
  
Gandalf sat beside Frodo's bed and smoothed the young hobbit's hair from his eyes. They had laid him in one of the rooms in the gate house of Isengard on a bed of rushes to try and keep away the cold. Gandalf beckoned to Aragorn, who stood in the doorway and he ushered Merry and Pippin inside. The four sat around Frodo's bed in silence.  
  
"He is fading." Gandalf said finally, voicing what everyone else was thinking.  
  
Frodo was incredibly thin, by hobbit standards skeletal. His skin was almost white from the lack of light and his hair fell in matted bloody tangles around his face. The area surrounding his neck was torn and lacerated from rope burns, ugly purple bruises beginning to appear. Aragorn and Gandalf had also discovered curses burned into the young hobbit's chest and back written in the black speech, as well as numerous spiked whip marks. They had covered up these areas for the entry of the hobbits, not wanting to distress them more than finding out their cousin they buried nearly two months ago was actually alive.  
  
"I have heard that before and it did not happen then. It shall not happen now." Aragorn reached forward and stroked the side of Frodo's face. "Frodo. Frodo, can you hear me? We are all here waiting for you."  
  
Merry and Pippin followed Aragorn's lead and started talking to Frodo, telling him of all the adventures they had had since that fateful night.  
  
***  
  
Frodo stirred in his nightmare. The Nazgul were after him and he had to keep running, always running. He thought he heard Pippin's voice and twisted around. He spied a small camp, horses tied around the edge with several small lean-tos constructed near trees. There was a huge bonfire in the centre. Intrigued, Frodo moved towards the light of the fire and as he did so the nightmarish sounds of the Nazgul grew less in his mind. He listened for Pippin's voice again and heard it, combined with Merry's and Strider's. A deep voice joined in; it was Gandalf. He moved towards a huge stone tower and slipped inside.  
  
All his friends were gathered around a small bed, whispering and talking to the figure lying there. Frodo wondered who it was and moved for a closer look. A feeling of recognition swam through his body and briefly he felt solid again, just for a moment. Gandalf carried on talking to the body, calling it Frodo. Why, he asked himself, he was Frodo and he was not on that bed.  
  
Frodo looked closer at the hobbit on the bed. The figure looked remarkably similar to him really; it was extremely strange.  
  
"We need you Frodo, we need you to come back to us. Don't leave us." Gandalf said.  
  
But he was here and he didn't want to leave, Frodo yelled at the top of his lungs, but nobody seemed to hear. The figure on the bed convulsed and Frodo felt the convulsions as well. He crept onto the bed and moved until he was almost on top of the figure. Realisation came to Frodo like a blow to the head. The figure on the bed was Frodo and at the moment he was deserting his friends when they needed. He would not do it.  
  
Frodo concentrated on his friends and the solid world, feeling his fear of the Nazgul slip away from him. He could feel his fingers he realised, he could feel.the pain of his bruises and torture hit him full in the face, but shocked him enough to make him take a deep breath and open his eyes. When he did, he was lying on the bed, looking up at his friends.  
  
Merry and Pippin were all over him instantly, hugging him and kissing him with relief. Aragorn ruffled his hair and pulled them off him.  
  
"How do you feel, Frodo?" Aragorn asked.  
  
Frodo didn't know what to say. Where was the master? Frodo wasn't allowed to speak, the master had said that if he did, he would destroy the shire. Frodo said nothing.  
  
Aragorn looked at Frodo, puzzled. Was it that he couldn't or wouldn't speak? He had treated as many of the hobbits injuries as he could last night, but had found none preventing speech. Could it be magic of some kind? He looked to Gandalf, but the old man shrugged his shoulders.  
  
"Frodo, Saruman is gone. He can no longer harm you. Your are safe here, with us. We are your friends, we will not let anything happen to you." But they had, Aragorn thought, they had, he said with guilt in his eyes.  
  
*** Frodo was confused. If the master had gone, then surely he was free, free in the way he had dreamed of for many meals. But the master had power and he would know if Frodo spoke and destroy the shire. He shook his head violently at Aragorn. The master was not gone, and he could still hurt him.  
  
Aragorn decided to try a different tactic.  
  
"Will you not speak because of something Saruman has done or will do?"  
  
Frodo nodded.  
  
"Has he said he will kill you if you speak?"  
  
Frodo shook his head.  
  
"Has he said he will kill somebody else if you speak?"  
  
Frodo nodded hopefully.  
  
Aragorn turned to Gandalf. "We made a deal for safe passage for Saruman on the condition that Frodo would live. He almost didn't keep up his end of the bargain, why should we keep ours."  
  
Gandalf turned stern. "We shall keep ours because if all promises are broken between men, then there shall be no honour left in the world. We swore not to kill him and we shall not. However, if you decide to send a scout to track Saruman and ensure he does no harm, I shall not object."  
  
Aragorn smiled, Gandalf was still as crafty as ever. He turned back to Frodo.  
  
"Did you hear that Frodo? We will send someone after Saruman so that he cannot harm anyone. Does that make you feel better?"  
  
Frodo nodded. Perhaps if the master could be made not to kill anyone, perhaps he could speak. Aragorn left the tent, followed by Gandalf, leaving the hobbits alone. For several minutes they just sat in silence, but Pippin being the hobbit he was, could not resist thinking about food.  
  
"Are you hungry Frodo?" He asked gently.  
  
Frodo wasn't sure what to say, but when Aragorn re-entered the tent with a bowl of steaming stew, his stomach decided for him. When Aragorn gave him the bowl, Frodo looked cautiously around then talk a small sip. It seemed wonderful compared to the bare rations he'd had previously and finished the bowl even before Pippin could finish his.  
  
Feeling rather drowsy, Frodo began to drift off to sleep.  
  
****** There you are, as always I bow to the wishes of my reviewers. I have performed the impossible and Frodo is now amoung the living again - for now. Rest assured, I will try my hardest to kill him again, so beware!!!! 


	9. CHAPTER NINE : CAPTURE

CHAPTER NINE - CAPTURE  
  
A/N: Because this is my story, I decided that Sam would journey much slower alone and therefore wouldn't arrive in Ithilien until the events in Return of the King. The others, driven on by their need to find Frodo hurried a bit more and are therefore slightly early. Therefore, Sam is in Ithilien at the same time that Gandalf, Pippin and Frodo arrive at Minas Tirith.  
  
Outside the tent, Aragorn and Gandalf continued their discussion. They had dispatched a Rohirrim rider as decided; his orders to follow Saruman, observe him and interfere only if he endangered another's life. Saruman was not to be killed under any circumstances, Gandalf had been adamant about it.  
  
"The enemy is moving towards Minas Tirith, Aragorn and he will not wait for us. If we are not there, Minas Tirith will fall to the enemy, to the doom of all the free peoples."  
  
"But what of Frodo? He will not survive the long, hard journey to Minas Tirith Gandalf, he is barely holding on now." Aragorn hissed.  
  
"Then we will have to chance it. We have already dawdled here far too long. We must reach Minas Tirith before the enemy. Treebeard will ensure that Isengard is secure while we are gone."  
  
Aragorn knew that Gandalf was right, but after finally saving the small hobbit, he was reluctant to chance his life so quickly. "I will speak to the king."  
  
Gandalf clasped Aragorn's shoulder. "Frodo will be alright."  
  
Gandalf disappeared into the last shadows of the night, leaving Aragorn alone with his thoughts.  
  
***  
  
Gandalf heard a yelp and found Pippin led out on the floor next to the Palantir. After some coaxing, Pippin came out of his trance and started crying.  
  
"I'm so sorry Gandalf, but it has been calling to me ever since I touched it at the bottom of Orthanc. Merry and Frodo were asleep and I just couldn't stand it anymore. Please forgive me, Gandalf."  
  
Gandalf stared into the young hobbit's eyes and found nothing but fear and guilt.  
  
"It is not your fault Peregrin Took. I never should have let you near the thing in the first place, but for your foolishness you shall ride with me now to Minas Tirith."  
  
Pippin's eyes grew wide with terror as Gandalf told him of the King's decision. Merry would travel to Edoras with King Theoden and Aragorn to be kept safe. Pippin and Frodo would travel away from the Palantir and Saruman's influence to Minas Tirith. As soon as the King had secured Edoras, he would ride to Minas Tirith with all haste.  
  
When all prepartations were made, Frodo and Pippin mounted Shadowfax with Gandalf, and as Shadowfax rode into the wind, it seemed to Pippin that they were flying.  
  
***  
  
Legolas stared up at the stars. The stars seemed the same as they had been yesterday, yet something was different; he was different.  
  
Frodo was alive and so was Mithrandir, so perhaps he had not failed at all. He mused on his thoughts while he kept watch. The remaining party would be leaving in a few hours and he with them. He should really get some rest, but every time he closed his eyes, the image of Frodo jumping from the balcony tore him from any kind of restful slumber.  
  
Legolas knew that Frodo was alive, but Frodo was so badly hurt. If Legolas had only gotten there sooner, he could have prevented the little hobbit so much torment and pain. Legolas reiterated his previous decision; he was pathetic. He was not worthy to remain in the party. Perhaps he should have volunteered to go after Saruman and Grima, at least then he would be alone, there being no one else he could hurt.  
  
***  
  
Aragorn watched Legolas from across the camp. Elrond had warned him back at Rivendell that Legolas blamed himself for Frodo's apparent death, and it seemed that he still believed that. Legolas's spirits had improved by Gandalf's return, but he never seemed to be truly happy.  
  
Aragorn had spoken to Gimli and Gandalf about this, but none of them could think of anything to do. Gimli seemed to be overcoming all their numerous differences and arguments to try to find the underlying cause of Legolas' misery, but when asked, Legolas would either clam up or avoid the subject. None of them knew how to cure an Elf of grief.  
  
Gandalf had seen many Elves in the pain of grief in his time, yet no one that had remained in Middle Earth had survived. All they could do was keep supporting him and hope; hope that Legolas could forgive himself for doing nothing wrong.  
  
***  
  
Sam looked up at the rain clouds above him. He'd travelled through Emyn Muil, but had become lost in it's warrens of stone. Everything had seemed the same, each rock, each tree and peak. It had only been when Gollum had appeared and guided him out that he had escaped it's maze. Sam had been reluctant to have any association with the creature, remembering Mr Bilbo's stories of Gollum all too well. But in the end he'd had no choice. He'd started by binding the creature in Elven rope, but the vile slug had whined and moaned to the point of distraction and Sam had agreed to let him go from his restraints on the condition that Gollum guided him safely to Mordor.  
  
He was incredibly suspicious of Gollum, having a natural dislike for him that made him shiver every time he saw him. Sam knew that he could never trust Gollum and kept half an eye open at night to make sure Gollum didn't try to throttle him in his sleep. Yet the creature had been true to his word and brought him to the Black Gates. Sam had nearly run straight in, but Gollum had held him back, begging him to come with him another way. Suspicion raised, he would have gone through the gate had it not been closed and so was forced to follow Gollum yet again.  
  
Gollum had brought him into Ithilien. They were camped there for now and Gollum had gone off to eat, Sam presumed. He was glad Gollum rarely brought whatever he ate near him, for though he could often smell the remains on him, he had no wish to actually know what poor creature it had been. He sat near the embers of his dying fire, rubbing his numb hands together. The last of the day's light was fading and he knew he should get some rest. Yet, as always, he couldn't. The ring bore down on him like a great weight, always whispering to him, always tempting him. He would sit and look at it for hours, admiring it's simple beauty.  
  
Sometimes it would seem as thought it weighed more than Middle Earth itself around his neck and sometimes he would not feel the weight at all. More often lately, as the Ringwraiths passed overhead he would remember when Frodo had been stabbed by them at Weathertop, feel the eye searching for him. The eye burned his mind, and although it had not yet found him, the burning never ceased. There was only one thing that kept Sam going, that made him put one foot in front the other. Mr Frodo had left him this last task to finish and finish it he would.  
  
***  
  
Frodo could feel the ring getting closer with every stride Shadowfax took. He revelled in it's warmth, the heavy presence that felt so normal to him tempted him. Pippin had told him that Sam had continued the quest on his own and Frodo had almost laughed. If he could catch up with Sam, Sam would surely give him the ring. He stopped.listening to himself; he sounded like the Gollum in Bilbo's stories. He honestly did want to see Sam again, to have his reliable presence by his side again, even to hear his numerous poems and stories again. He had missed Sam whilst he had been at Isengard he realised, but meeting him again could be deadly for them both.  
  
Frodo clung closer to Pippin and tried not to think about how much pain he was in. The pain of his bruises rubbing against his clothes; the pain of holding his head up with his throbbing neck. The pain on his back was the worst, and it rubbed against Gandalf in time with Shadowfax's gallop, irritating the burns and lacerations there. He began to fade into unconsciousness and welcomed it, at least he wouldn't feel the pain then.  
  
***  
  
Sam heard something and was instantly at his feet. He ran through the woodland and crept up to the top of a knoll. He peeked over the top to see thousands of men dressed for war parading towards Mordor. Sam winced slightly at the sight of so many warriors of evil. Gollum laughed.  
  
An oliphant came into sight and Sam's face showed his obvious awe.  
  
"No one's ever going to believe this back home." He murmured almost to himself.  
  
Arrows started flying down at the men and Sam ducked back slightly behind the mound. The oliphant stumbled and dropped a man several feet away from Sam, causing him to jump back. He turned and ran right into a cloaked warrior.  
  
He tried to struggle and found it useless. A man, slightly taller than the rest came forward looking at him with an intense gaze. Sam could see none of his face, for it was hidden behind a hood. The leader gestured to another and Sam's hands were bound and a hood thrown over his head.  
  
***  
  
Sam tried to be brave, he knew Mr Frodo would be in his position. Mr Frodo would stand tall and proud against those nasty men; well maybe not so tall, but proud all the same.  
  
He was kicked to the floor when he assumed they'd arrived at wherever they were going and his hood removed. He stood up and slowly looked around. Everything seemed so big around him and he cowered. The leader moved towards him and sat on an old barrel.  
  
"My men tell me you are an orc spy."  
  
"Spy? Now wait just a minute."  
  
"Well, if you are no spy, then who are you?"  
  
Sam looked confused, unsure of how much this man could be trusted.  
  
"Speak!"  
  
"I am from the Shire, Bag End to be exact. My name is Samwise Gamgee."  
  
"And where is your skulking friend? That gangrel creature. He had an ill- favoured look."  
  
Sam hesitated. "There is no one else. The Fellowship is broken and I am all that is left." Sam trailed off, thinking of his parting from the company.  
  
The leader paused. "You left from Rivendell with Boromir?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"You would count him among your friends?"  
  
"Yes I suppose so."  
  
"It would grieve you then to learn that he is dead?"  
  
"Dead?" How could Boromir be dead?  
  
"As one of his companions, I had hoped you would have news of his death. He was my brother."  
  
The leader pulled back to reveal a face that was similar to Boromir's, yet younger and less worn.  
  
"Captain Faramir." A voice said from behind Sam. Faramir, yes he thought. Boromir had spoken of having a younger brother by that name, but Sam had never thought he would be in this position with him.  
  
Sam was led into small room containing three large barrels. He sat down and wept. He was alone in a strange land, apparently abandoned by his only guide and in a strange prison of Boromir's brother. What was he to do? 


	10. CHAPTEN TEN : POSSESSED

CHAPTER TEN - POSSESSED  
  
Frodo laid in the soft bed in the House of Healing at Minas Tirith. All he could think about was the ring. He could imagine it's shiny surface, glittering in the sunshine, it's smooth feel around his neck. He missed the simple presence of it around his neck when he moved; which given his current condition wasn't very far.  
  
Everyone had been fussing around him when he arrived, looking at his wounds and saying how terrible it was. Frodo no longer thought of it as terrible, he was not there anymore. The Master had said they were for his own good, so he had probably deserved it; he had tried to escape several times after all.  
  
Flashes of his imprisonment went through his mind as he rested, reminding him of everything he went through. The first time the orcs slashed him with the whip until they hit the back of his rib cage. The time when they'd burned their names into his stomach with a poker. He'd been lucid through it all, yet he felt like it had happened to someone else.  
  
Pippin slept in the bed next to him, but Frodo didn't feel like talking to him. He still refused to speak, even after Aragorn had told him that he had no need to fear to wrath of master's retribution. Aragorn had sworn to protect him when he first met him in Bree and he hadn't. The Ranger couldn't be trusted the voice said.  
  
No one had come after him, no one had come to save him. It was just as Master had said it would be; they had only liked him because he had the ring, which was their only concern. A tear slipped down his cheek. He didn't want to believe it as he watched the small figure of his cousin breathe deeply in and out whilst asleep. Master had told him that the elves always deceived and anyone that counted them friends was a fool.  
  
Another tear slipped down his cheek. He'd known Gandalf for over sixty years, and knew him to be wise and just. *But* Master was right, the ring had changed everyone he knew, and Gandalf was no longer his friend now that Frodo didn't have the ring.  
  
A healer came into check on him and Frodo eyed her suspiciously. Master had warned him not to trust *anyone*. She took his hand and concentrated on listening to his pulse. This is not good something inside Frodo said. She's going to betray you, she's going to hurt you, they'll all going to hurt you, they're going to abandon you again, they're going to try and make you speak.  
  
"AAAHHH!" Frodo shouted, trying to close off the voices in his head. There was fire in his eyes when he looked up at the healer. He looked at his hand; she had refused to let go. He tried to free it from her grasp, but she went white with fear and held on tighter.  
  
"Alamanter! Gandalf! Frodo's gone mad!"  
  
She started calling for others now and tried to restrain him. Frodo snarled and spit at her, but when he heard Gandalf's name, he used his hatred of those that betrayed to give him strength. He pulled her hand towards him and bit it as hard as he could. She recoiled in pain, screaming. The voices urged him on, bating him and provoking him. He put his hands over his ears to try to make them stop.  
  
Pippin woke up and walked over to where Frodo had gotten off the bed.  
  
"What's the matter Frodo?" Pippin said innocently.  
  
Pippin was not innocent, the voice said. He had left Frodo there to die like the rest of them. Frodo launched himself at Pippin, feeling half a dozen stitches fly out at the sudden move. His neck felt like fire, but he didn't care. He grabbed handfuls of Pippin's hair and smacked his head against the wall in fury.  
  
Suddenly, as soon as it had come; the fury and the voices left him. Tears rolled down his face. Pippin lay unmoving, a small line of blood trickling from his mouth and nose. The healer was scrunched into the corner, violently shaking with fear. Gandalf entered the room and looked around. He put up his hands.  
  
"Now, Frodo. Everything's all right now. No one will hurt you."  
  
He's said that before, the voice inside him said. The tears stopped and anger flashed in his eyes. He pulled himself up despite the pain and moved towards Gandalf.  
  
***  
  
Gandalf was starting to panic. He'd fought many agents of the Darklord; Balrogs, Wraiths and Orcs, but none had ever scared him as much as Frodo was now.  
  
"Frodo? Can you hear me?" He tried again, desperately trying to get through to the little hobbit. Whatever Saruman had done to Frodo, he had done it well.  
  
Frodo staggered on his feet and Gandalf noticed the trail of blood shadowing Frodo's movements. If he lost much more he would be dead.  
  
"Come on now Frodo. Don't you want to go back to bed? Aren't you tired? We can dress your wounds later."  
  
Frodo carried on shuffling towards him, a fire of anger lit in his eyes.  
  
"You know that I'd never hurt you, Frodo. We've been friends all these long years. I'm trying to help you."  
  
Frodo paused and swayed slightly on his feet.  
  
"I didn't want to believe it Gandalf, but he told me, *he* told me you'd all abandoned me and then it happened and I didn't know what to do." He whispered.  
  
His voice came out in short rasps from disuse. Gandalf wondered how long it'd been since he'd spoken to anyone. Tears streamed down the hobbit's face.  
  
Gandalf knelt before the hobbit and put his large arms around him.  
  
"It's alright now, Frodo. It's going to be okay. Shhh now." He said as he gently stroked the Frodo's hair.  
  
***  
  
When Frodo had sufficiently calmed down, Gandalf laid him down on the bed and staunched the worst of the bleeding. Some of his wounds were healing well and others.not so well. They would need to be re-stitched if they were ever to heal, but he guessed now was not the best time.  
  
Healers were already attending to young Peregrin and the lady healer was now drinking a cup of stiff tea to calm her nerves. Gandalf couldn't fathom exactly what had caused Frodo to become so agitated in such a short space of time. He let his mind drift, seeing if any ideas would present themselves.  
  
He recalled Eomer telling him of the time he first suspected the King to be under the sway of Grima and therefore Saruman. The King had been known to have rapid mood swings and complain of there being voices in the air. Soon after, the King had sat down to think and hadn't gotten up for many years.  
  
Gandalf cleared his mind and lightly touched Frodo's forehead. He was stung in a similar manner to the time he had touched the Palantir in Saruman's chambers so long ago.  
  
So Saruman still held sway over Frodo and there was no doubt in Gandalf's mind that it had been Saruman who had incited Frodo's rage. But why, he thought. What purpose could that possibly serve?  
  
Of course, he could try and draw Saruman out of Frodo, in the same manner as he had done King Theoden. But what of the consequences? The King had barely survived the process and Saruman had held a fairly weak grasp over the King since he hadn't physically met the man in many, many years. Who knows what kind of grasp Saruman had over a small hobbit who he'd tortured and humiliated for months?  
  
Was getting rid of Saruman worth the hobbit's life? He wished he could speak to Elrond now, or even Aragorn. Both were knowledgeable in the arts of healing and although Gandalf's knowledge was great, it was not conclusive.  
  
Gandalf sat beside Frodo all night, pondering all courses of action. As the dawn sunlight rushed into the room, he decided on a course of action. It wasn't entirely ethical and didn't seem fair to Frodo, but it was the action best suited to the situation. Overnight, he had pondered Frodo's words and determined Frodo's fate. He hoped someday in another place and time Frodo would forgive him, for he knew he could never forgive himself for the action he was about to take.  
  
*** Sorry I haven't answered reviews yet!!  
  
Imbefanial: Thanks for the compliment. Was kinda going for the tearjerker to start with.  
  
Imbefanial: I know I'm mean, but this is a Frodo angst story, so what were you expecting exactly?  
  
Aelfgifu: I am going at the speed of light!! And yes I do now accept unsigned reviews thanks to you!  
  
Rose Cotton: If you're reading this far you'll know Frodo was rescued that time, but I'm not so sure about next time.  
  
Imbefanial: Yeah well that chapter was kind of an interlude before my mass 'I want to kill Frodo scene'  
  
Aelfgifu: Like the pun. As you know paramedics in the form of Aragorn and Legolas were there and now in the House of Healing there are more *Paramedics* just dying to help poor Frodo.(pun intended)  
  
Chrissie: You don't belong in this story! Pain in ways I can't even imagine.hhmmmm.wonder if you could tell me so I can think up new evil ways to torture Frodo.  
  
Imbefanial: Well as much as I wanted it to be the end of Frodo, I bow to the wishs of my reviewers and surprisingly the majority wanted him to survive. Can't understand it really.  
  
Imbefanial: *Receives the prize for most amount of reviews* You're already thinking about my next story? Wow.  
  
Sailor Mystic: I have written almost an entire chapter of Sam just for you, hope you like it! (C9).  
  
Bookworm2000: Smeagol does get to meet the fat hobbit and yes Frodo does sound a lot like Smeagol most of the time. They have a lot in common. 


	11. CHAPTER ELEVEN : SILENCE

CHAPTER ELEVEN - SILENCE  
When Frodo squeezed open his eyes, he felt the renewed pain of his more recent wounds threefold. He looked under the blanket at his chest and couldn't help but wince. Some of his earliest wounds were little more than nasty scars but some of the fresher were still seeping puss and blood. He looked around him. The door was shut to the room; he wondered if it was locked and why.  
  
He remembered the events of yesterday and another tear rolled down his face. He couldn't remember why he had been so angry; he knew he was angry at them for leaving him, but not angry enough to try and kill Pippin. But he had spoken to Gandalf.he had doomed the shire. Tears rolled down his cheeks, although Frodo wondered how he could have any tears left.  
  
He got up and looked out of the window into the morning light. It really was beautiful, even if he could see Mount Doom in the distance. He should be there he thought for some reason.  
  
Frodo.  
  
Frodo spun around. It was Master.He had come back. He had said he would destroy the shire if Frodo spoke and he had. He should be punished. Yet he could not see Master anywhere.  
  
You have been very bad Frodo and you must be punished.  
  
Frodo nodded vigorously, looking out of a westward window now. It felt closer to Master somehow.  
  
Pippin opened an eye, but remained very still. Frodo was acting very strangely again. Gandalf had explained to him that it was not Frodo's fault that he had hurt him and to come and find Gandalf if Frodo should do anything odd again. Pippin slithered out of bed as quietly as he could and soon returned with Gandalf. They stood silent in the doorway.  
  
All Gandalf and Pippin could see was Frodo violently nodding and shaking his head, then gesturing to things no one else could see.  
  
"Frodo?" Gandalf said gently. Frodo turned around.  
  
You do not deserve a voice Frodo Baggins. Therefore I shall put it to good use.  
  
Frodo felt words coming out of his mouth, but they were not his.  
  
"So, Gandalf Greyhame, we meet again." Frodo's voice was deep and resonating, but Gandalf could see the fear in Frodo's eyes.  
  
"Leave the half-ling Saruman, he is of no use to you."  
  
"Ahh, but he is. You always were so short-sighted Gandalf, never one to see the bigger picture. Frodo is the turning point."  
  
Gandalf tried not to look puzzled. Frodo laughed.  
  
"At least the half-ling has not told you anything useful yet, but I will prevent any further damage like this." A gleam shone in his eyes then faded.  
  
Frodo spluttered and caught at his throat, choking and began to go blue.  
  
Gandalf ran to the young hobbit, but by the time he had, Frodo seemed fine. He helped the young hobbit up.  
  
"Are you alright, Frodo?" He asked gently, moving to the hobbit's level to look into his eyes.  
  
Frodo opened his mouth to speak, but nothing seemed to happen. Gandalf slowly felt around the hobbit's throat. The bruises were still raw and black, but something was missing underneath. Gandalf felt again, more slowly and surely this time, not missing how Frodo winced under his touch. His voice box was completely gone.  
  
***  
  
Frodo sat in the library, depressed. He knew he had been punished and that he couldn't speak. He deserved it, he guessed, he had disobeyed Master. He had been writing down everything that had happened to him, but paused after he'd got to Isengard. What if Master found out and burnt off his hands? Frodo threw the pen across the room and slumped into the chair. It was useless.  
  
He let his thoughts drift and once again felt the ring calling to him. It nagged at him, called to him and he wanted to reply so badly.he couldn't of course. He could barely walk about for five or more minutes without pulling out one of his stitches in his stomach. Soon, he decided, when he was well enough, he could answer the call. Soon, he would fulfil Master's special task he had given to him the day he'd left.  
  
***  
  
Legolas sat on the highest balcony in Edoras. He could see for hundreds of miles here and it made him despair. There were no trees within sight and no elves closer than Mirkwood. All the elves at Helm's Deep had perished save him.  
  
Why had that been? He was certainly no one special, he had failed at every task given to him and would have readily given his life in exchange for Haldir's. If Haldir were here instead of him, he was sure things would be much better for everyone.  
  
Gimli approached and sat beside him, also looking at the surroundings. Recently, Aragorn and Gimli kept pestering Legolas about Frodo, telling him it wasn't his fault. The more they told him that, the more his heart told him they were lying to try and make him feel better.  
  
"I didn't see you at the rations cart today, or yesterday now I think about it. When was the last time you ate?" Gimli mumbled.  
  
"It's not important. I'm not important." Legolas' mind drifted back to Frodo. If it hadn't been for him, Frodo could be free and well somewhere safe. If he had helped Mithrandir when he'd been given the chance, perhaps Middle Earth would have a greater chance of surviving the coming war.  
  
Gimli growled. "Legolas, my friend. You are important; to the people of Middle Earth, Aragorn and even me. You are important to me. If you do not eat something right now, I will stand here and shove it down your poncy Elven throat while Aragorn holds it open. And don't you think I won't, Elf!"  
  
Legolas allowed himself a small smile at that image. Gimli was a good person really.he deserved to be here.but Legolas.didn't. His mind wandered again; he felt Gimli's stare at the back of his head.  
  
"I will go when I am finished thinking."  
  
Gimli nodded at this small concession. "Just make sure you do. I'll be watching you know. I may not have super duper Elf vision, but I can watch food like a hawk."  
  
Legolas heard Gimli's iron clad boots stomp down the steps. He was glad he was gone. He needed to be alone. He didn't deserve company.  
  
***  
  
Merry was also out looking at the sunrise that morning, but not so high as Legolas. He had seen the elf moping about the place and Aragorn had told him he grieved Frodo's death. But Frodo was alive in Minas Tirith, Merry had argued. Aragorn just shrugged and said, "He is an Elf."  
  
He wondered what Pippin was doing this morning. Probably off causing some kind of mischief somewhere he thought, trying to stifle a giggle; which reminded him of why he was going to the rations room.  
  
***  
  
Days passed and the members of the Fellowship grew restless, wherever in Middle Earth they were.  
  
Frodo healed slowly in Minas Tirith, pushing his strength further every day, determined to go after the ring.  
  
Legolas' strength dwindled; he spent more and more time alone on the top balcony, listening to the wind.  
  
Merry played some mischievous pranks on the guards in Edoras and was reprimanded quite severely by King Theoden and put on washing plates duty. It had a sense of deja-vu about it for him.  
  
Aragorn worried constantly for Legolas' health, but was kept busy with making plans for securing Edoras and the journey to Minas Tirith.  
  
Gimli was kept busy eating, being cynical at the poor craftsmanship of the stone supports of Edoras and worrying for Legolas.  
  
Pippin watched Frodo from afar, worrying for his cousin, but too scared to approach him since it happened. His head still pounded underneath the bandage.  
  
Sam was kept in the barrel room, not permitted more than minimal rations each day, whilst Faramir's inner torment on what to do with him raged.  
  
Gandalf watched the sunrise every morning, watched how the fires of Mount Doom grew ever brighter each day. It would be soon.  
  
Boromir's body lay in the small boat, being tossed upon the waves out at sea; a reminder to all what happens to those who try to steal the ring. 


End file.
